


not what you need (but what you deserve)

by Preach



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik Killmonger, Alpha T'Challa (Marvel), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete, Cousin Incest, Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Omega Verse, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preach/pseuds/Preach
Summary: T'Challa knows that he shouldn't want Erik so badly. His cousin. His own blood. His fellow alpha.But there's an undeniable, intense attraction from the moment that T'Challa first sets his eyes on Erik in the throne room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this ABO universe, betas, who are essentially the same as regular humans, make up the majority of the population (>99%). The remaining <1% are divided into alphas and omegas and are both equally prized. Alphas normally pair off with omegas (preferred, if they can find one) or betas (most common). Omegas similarly pair off with alphas (preferred) or betas.
> 
> Alphas typically do not get along with other alphas, and omegas do not get along with other omegas. They see their own kind as sexual competition and instinctively dislike each other. It's unheard of for an alpha to pair with another alpha, or an omega to pair with another omega. Practically all societies view alpha/alpha and omega/omega pairings as unnatural and taboo. It's considered to be a waste of a very rare, very desirable alpha or omega.

 PART I

 

T'Challa knows that he shouldn't want Erik so badly. His cousin. His own blood. His fellow alpha. 

But there's an undeniable, intense attraction from the moment that T'Challa first sets his eyes on Erik in the throne room.

Even with his hands cuffed behind his back, Erik exudes natural alpha charm and fearlessness. He is almost outrageously handsome, with his dreadlocks, sculpted muscles and capped golden canines. T'Challa wonders what those teeth will feel like, scraping against his own neck.

He has never wanted anyone else as immediately, as badly, as  _appallingly_  as he wants Erik. 

T'Challa tries to resist it, of course.  He deliberately antagonizes Erik, tries to wind him up. It's trivially easy to do so. T'Challa steps too close into Erik's personal space and gets right in his face. A couple of belittling comments  _("I don't care that you killed Klaue"),_ insults  _("I will never let a crazy person like you take the throne")_ and snide insinuations  _("not our people")_ later,and Erik is practically ready to tear T'Challa's throat out, reacting instinctively to the presence of another aggressive alpha in his territory. 

But it doesn't work. If anything, Erik is even more attractive when he's furious at T'Challa. Murderous rage is a very good look on him. 

T'Challa burns with the desire to make Erik  _his._  Burns with equal parts guilt and shame, for this desire. For what they've done to Erik, and what T'Challa, despite all their history, still wants to do to him.

In spite of the Queen Mother's advice, T'Challa accepts Erik's challenge for the throne.

If Erik kills him, so be it. It's nothing less than T'Challa deserves. 

* * *

 

Fighting Erik at the Warrior Falls is torture.

The intimate press of skin against skin, limbs entangled with limbs is driving T'Challa to madness. 

T'Challa is losing. Badly. His own alpha instincts are in overdrive, triggered by the close proximity of a dangerous enemy alpha. His competition. Each new cut on his body, each new drop of blood drawn by Erik, feeds his inner urge to rip Erik apart. To prove to the beta and omega spectators in the audience exactly who is the stronger alpha between them. 

But intertwined with T'Challa's visceral, murderous desire is just -  _desire._  Pure, unadulterated lust. 

Erik is so unfairly attractive, even as he's declaring how much he hates T'Challa. Even when Erik is actively attempting to kill him. Erik's angry snarls, his ferocious attacks, the brutal, violent grace in his movements as he attempts to cut T'Challa's throat - all of it makes T'Challa hard. 

He must be broken. There must be something deeply wrong with him, to make him react to Erik like this. 

T'Challa doesn't dare to fully give himself over to his alpha nature. It would no doubt make things easier if he yields to his instincts and lets his body do the fighting, but if he lets go of his rigid self-control, he isn't sure whether he would fight Erik. Or fuck him. 

Taking advantage of T'Challa's hesitation, Erik slices him deeply across both calves. The sudden, excruciating pain of Erik cutting through his tendons and muscles brings T'Challa to his knees.

With a triumphant yell, Erik hoists T'Challa over his shoulders and shouts to the horrified crowd, "Is this your king now?" 

T'Challa catches the overpowering scent of alpha pheromones, spicy-sharp, as Erik luxuriates in his victory. He shudders in Erik's grip, overwhelmed with need. Erik probably thinks that T'Challa is trying to struggle free, but that couldn't be further from the truth. 

Erik heaves T'Challa over the waterfall as if he weighs nothing at all. The pain and shock of the impact causes him to black out.

T'Challa's final thought before darkness sweeps over him is,  _"I hope - "_

* * *

 

Being killed by Erik still doesn't kill his desire  _for_  Erik. Not that T'Challa had really expected it to.

When T'Challa, miraculously resurrected by the heart-shaped herb, wakes up in a pile of snow aching all over, he looks up into the anguished, tearful faces of his mother and his sister and knows that Erik has to be stopped.

It's partly T'Challa's fault for antagonizing Erik in the first place. If he hadn't treated Erik so aggressively during their first meeting - if he had acknowledged Erik as his cousin from the start instead of refusing to name him - if he had welcomed Erik home to Wakanda...things could have worked out differently. Perhaps Erik would have been more willing to talk instead of fight.

T'Challa  _could_ blame his biology for his initial reaction to Erik. It's well known that alphas never get along with other alphas. But he would only be lying to himself. He hadn't thought of Erik as sexual competition, the way he ought to have when confronted by another alpha - he had just wanted to fuck Erik senseless. Inter-alpha hostility had nothing to do with it.

And even after that, T'Challa had practically thrown the fight against Erik because of his own confused desires. He had been heedless of what that would mean for the future of his country. 

T'Challa needs to clean up his own mess before Erik destroys his country. Destroys the world.

M'Baku does not agree to lend T'Challa his army. No matter. T'Challa will just have to deal with Erik on his own.

* * *

 

T'Challa confronts Erik across an open field after bringing down his planes. 

Upon seeing T'Challa inexplicably alive and well, a delighted, shit-eating grin spreads across Erik's face. 

"Wassup?" he calls out to T'Challa, and T'Challa's heart leaps. 

Although Erik verbally turns down T'Challa's challenge, he still can't stop himself from attacking T'Challa. This time, T'Challa doesn't hold back either - the stakes are simply too high. He finds to his relief that he can more than hold his own against Erik when both of them are fighting seriously, no holds barred. 

"Man, you're sure going hard at it this time, cuz!" Erik taunts him. He seems surprised by the ferocity of T'Challa's attacks, given how easily that he had beaten T'Challa in their previous fight. 

The way that Erik purrs  _"hard at it"_  is very - 

T'Challa pushes away that thought and forces Erik back step by step until they're both standing at the edge of the vibranium mine shaft. He glances assesingly at the long drop. They're both wearing impact-absorbing suits. The fall won't kill or even hurt them, and it's better to take the fight away from the others, in case anyone else gets hurt.

He pounces on Erik, bearing them both down into the mine shaft, towards the train tracks. 

And if T'Challa's subsequent command to Shuri to activate the sonic disruptors is partly fuelled by a shameful desire to see Erik naked?

Well. He'll never admit it. 

* * *

 

Fighting Erik as his suit is unpredictably melting on and off is a brand new torture in itself. What had T'Challa been thinking, really? 

Their periodic nakedness certainly doesn't seem to bother Erik. He's only slightly surprised the first time it happens, and then he adjusts quickly, saving his most vicious strikes for the moments when T'Challa is unprotected by the Black Panther habit. Even though T'Challa is completely focused on the fight this time, he can barely block the worst of Erik's blows.

T'Challa knows that he needs to step it up. If he doesn't finish this soon, Erik will destroy him, destroy Wakanda and destroy the world. 

So it's come down to this, then. 

T'Challa relinquishes all his self-control and yields fully to his alpha nature for the first time in his life. Yellow haze temporarily swims over his vision, and he knows that his irises have now turned a bright, reflective gold.

Bad idea. 

As T'Challa gives in to his instincts, aggression and desire slam into T'Challa's mind with the force of an oncoming train, overwhelming T'Challa's logic.

The first thing his body does when let off the leash is to lunge forward, grab hold of Erik by the shoulders and kiss him, hard. 

For the first time since they've met, Erik is well and truly taken aback.

"T'Challa?" he says uncertainly, eyes wide with shock. Erik goes still under T'Challa, and his plush lips part. He is so surprised that the gold is even beginning to disappear from his eyes as his battle-fury fades.

At this very moment, the sonic disruptors turn on in unison with a loud  _whoosh_.

The vibranium nanites of Erik's suit retract, exposing his chest, and T'Challa plunges his spear deeply into Erik's heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really channelled my thirst for MBJ when writing this part, lol.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

 

Once T'Challa's senses return to him and he manages to stop screaming in horror, he rushes to Shuri's lab with Erik's broken body and begs her to heal Erik.

Warily, Shuri complies. She heals Erik of his mortal injuries and brings him back to consciousness in under an hour.

Upon waking, Erik, to his credit, doesn't waste time asking T'Challa _how_ or _why_. He just gets straight to the point. Goes straight for the jugular.

"Fuck you!" Erik snarls at T'Challa, baring his teeth, the moment that he opens his eyes and sees T'Challa sitting beside his bed. The first words of his second life. Erik's hands clench into fists and he tries to lunge off the bed, but Shuri has injected him with a relaxant that prevents any large movements. Regardless, Erik's mouth still works. "That was a fucking low blow. That was totally dishonourable. Unfair! You're really fucked up, you know that? That didn't count. I demand a rematch."

Beside T'Challa, Shuri sputters in outraged disbelief.

T'Challa doesn't bother to defend himself or to reprimand Erik for his insults and ingratitude. In Erik's place, T'Challa would be enraged too.

"I meant it," T'Challa confesses instead, quietly.

Erik freezes, stunned, processing T'Challa's words.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaims at last. "I'm your cousin. I'm an _alpha!"_ Erik's voice rises to a shout on the last word.

The note of outrage in Erik's voice makes T'Challa wince. T'Challa bows his head and looks down at his own hands, avoiding Erik's eyes. His guilty silence tells Erik all that Erik needs to know.

Shuri glances between the two of them, confused, aware that she's missing an important part of the conversation.

"I am sorry. For everything. You were right. I was wrong," T'Challa continues haltingly, avoiding the elephant in the room. "I should have listened to you from the start. Wakanda has been isolated for too long. We could have done much more, and many people - especially you - have suffered because of our mistakes. I do not agree with your methods, but I will work towards your goals. Integration. Assistance. Though, I will skip the part about conquering the world," T'Challa adds dryly.

This entire speech has the effect of rendering Erik temporarily speechless. Shuri, too, for that matter. T'Challa briefly takes a moment to appreciate their twin, adorably bug-eyed looks of surprise.

Their familial resemblance is extremely strong. Shame forms a hard knot at the base of T'Challa's stomach.

Erik recovers first. "You're just saying that 'cause you wanna fuck me," he sneers. "Don't think that you can sweet-talk me like that. Your words don't mean nothing to me. I don't believe a word you're saying."

"Oh Bast, what the fuck?!" Shuri cries, horrified.

T'Challa flinches.

Erik, predictably, turns his head to address Shuri directly, to really dig it in. "Yeah, bet you didn't know that your big bro is a pervert, huh? He _kissed_ me! And then stabbed me in the heart when I let down my guard! And now he's trying to suck up to me. He's a pervert who wants to fuck his own cousin. His own alpha cousin!"

T'Challa flushes with mortification as Shuri stares at him with open-mouthed dismay. He can't deny his taboo attraction to Erik. Can't lie to his own sister.

Of course, Erik can't resist twisting the knife in deeper. "Who knows what else he wants to do?" he says darkly. "Someone like that, with no boundaries? Another alpha? His own cousin? His own _sist- "_

For the first time, true rage flares in T'Challa's chest. "Don't you dare insinuate that," T'Challa snaps angrily, cutting Erik off. "I would never!"

Erik's eyes widen and he draws back slightly. He's too proud to apologise, even when he knows that he's gone too far. But at least he does back down a little.

"Looks like your virtue is safe, Princess," Erik says nastily. "It's just me that he wants to fuck, if that makes you feel any better."

It definitely does not make Shuri feel any better.

With one last horrified look at T'Challa, Shuri flees the lab. Erik watches her go with a smug, self-satisfied expression on his face.

T'Challa sighs. His heart wrenches.

"I do not expect you to reciprocate. I know that this is wrong," he says quietly to Erik. "Regardless of what I feel, I promise that I will not touch you again. But I still hope that we can work together. I understand that you may not believe me right now, but I will show you my sincerity through my actions."

Erik sneers at him again. He makes a big show of clearing his throat and pretending to spit on the floor, to demonstrate to T'Challa exactly how little regard he has for T'Challa's alleged sincerity.

T'Challa sighs again and gets up to leave. He needs to catch up with Shuri, ideally before she speaks to Mama.

He misses the contemplative, curious look that Erik gives him as he turns to go.

* * *

 

Unfortunately for him, T'Challa does not catch up with Shuri in time. She breaks the news to Mama, and their ensuing row is so loud and so acrimonious that T'Challa is sure that all the palace servants are able to hear every last, lurid detail.

Gossip spreads fast in the palace. By the end of the day, practically everyone knows that the alpha King lusts after his alpha cousin.

The council sends T'Challa a terse note informing him that they intend to convene a meeting the next morning, a meeting where T'Challa's presence is requested (none too politely). T'Challa can't say that he hadn't expected this, but he's dreading it all the same.

T'Challa is wretchedly ashamed and miserable. He has never disappointed his mother or his people so badly before, and it's an awful feeling. For the first time in his life, he desperately wishes that he had been born a beta or an omega instead. It would make it so much easier to explain - this. This forbidden attraction to his alpha cousin.

But Bast is a tricky goddess, a sly panther. And what T'Challa wants isn't what he gets.

Reclutantly, T'Challa considers abdicating. Should he give up the throne in favour of Shuri? At this point, his public support is probably nonexistent. A king cannot rule without the support of his people, and within the short span of less than a week, he's proven twice over that he's not fit to lead. First the civil war sparked by Erik which tore the country apart, and now this.

But T'Challa doesn't think that yet another transfer of power so soon will be good for Wakanda. And, more crucially, Shuri is only sixteen. She will be at a severe disadvantage if she has to fight off a challenge from Erik or M'baku with nothing but her own unaided strength. Either of them will be able to kill her on the next Challenge Day, and it will all be perfectly legal under Wakanda's laws.

No. He has to hold on to the throne for as long as he can manage. There is no better alternative.

* * *

 

On the morning of the council meeting, T'Challa finds Erik waiting outside the throne room.

"Erik," T'Challa says, surprised.

"You first," Erik says flatly, with an unreadable expression on his face as he gestures towards the door.

"Wait, you're going in too?" T'Challa asks. "I thought..."

"Course I am. The council invited me. I'm still the king, ain't I? I never yielded. And as you can see, I'm not dead." Erik smirks as he parrots T'Challa's own words back to him.

T'Challa's heart sinks. There is no precedent for this situation, but in light of recent revelations, there's a very real possibility that the council will validate Erik's claim over his own. And then what will happen to Wakanda?

Erik smiles mockingly at T'Challa's obvious discomfort. "You first," he repeats. "And don't worry. I'll even let you do the talking first, too."

With no other choice, T'Challa holds his head high, grits his teeth and enters the room, drawing his natural alpha authority around him like a mantle. There's an amused huff from behind him as Erik follows suit.

All eyes are on T'Challa as he stalks directly towards the throne and takes his seat as if nothing has happened. He ignores the elders' mutterings with as much cold dignity as he can muster.

Erik lets the doors slam shut behind him and slouches insouciantly at the back of the throne room. He leans back against the wall, folds his arms across his chest and raises an eyebrow at T'Challa. _Go ahead, then,_ Erik's expression says.

T'Challa does his best not to let Erik distract him as he addresses the council directly.

He delves straight into his speech about building bridges instead of barriers, not giving the council a chance to begin questioning him about...recent events.

Erik listens to the speech with a completely blank face, though he does clench his jaw hard and bare his teeth once when T'Challa brings up his plan to build the first outreach centre in Oakland. With his herb-enhanced senses, T'Challa can see Erik's eyes flash a deep gold, matching the glint of his capped canines.

T'Challa swallows once before he continues, his voice gathering strength and conviction as he nears the end of his speech. When he concludes with, _"In times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another, as if we were one single tribe,"_ he can't help but sneak a glance at Erik out of the corner of his eye. 

Erik's lips are pressed together, but as far as T'Challa can tell, he doesn't seem to be displeased. When Erik is angry, he _really_ doesn't hesitate to show it.

The council, however, is definitely displeased. The most vocal of them, anyway. A cacophony of complaints immediately arise - that T'Challa is endangering their way of life. That they shouldn't be offering aid to colonizers, and to people who aren't their own. That perhaps T'Challa has lost his path as of late, because of his unnatural -

"All of you, shut the fuck up," Erik snarls suddenly, straightening up.

Erik storms right up to the throne. With a flourish, he sits down on the arm of the throne, draping himself over T'Challa. T'Challa freezes at the feeling of Erik's warm weight against him, Erik's arm pressed over his shoulders.

What?

"None of you had this much to say yesterday when I was in charge. But y'all sure do like to run your mouths now. So killing colonizers is fine. But helping our own people is too much for y'all?"

There is an outraged pause before another litany of complaints breaks out. This time, they take the form of indignant whispers, most of them centered on the topic of Erik's scandalous proximity to T'Challa on the throne. Still, even the loudest complainants have at least been temporarily silenced - T'Challa does not know exactly what transpired during Erik's reign, but he has apparently managed to scare even the most vocal elders into submission.

Erik glares at everyone and pointedly leans down to nuzzle the top of T'Challa's head. A flare of alpha pheromones hits the back of T'Challa's nose.

T'Challa tries his best to maintain a straight face and his dignified upright posture, even as his mind is screaming, _What?_

"Is my cousin here your king or nah?" Erik demands. There's a deep alpha growl in his voice.

There's a chorus of muttered acknowledgments, except for the very bravest of the dissenters, who protests, "But you're also -"

"Now, that ain't gonna be a problem with _us,"_ Erik cuts her off, emphasizing the last word as he tightens his grip possessively around T'Challa's shoulders. "That's strictly between me and T'Challa. Far as y'all are concerned? We're both your kings. And when the king gives an order? He means that shit."

Erik is magnetic. Commanding. T'Challa can't help but be impressed.

He hadn't really blamed any of his fellow Wakandans for following Erik's orders - as far as everyone had known, Erik had won the challenge fairly and was the lawful king - but he had been personally disappointed by how readily some of his old friends, W'Kabi in particular, had chosen to go along with Erik's obviously crazy plan.

Now, though, T'Challa understands. He can't blame them at all.

"Now if anyone here has got a problem with my alpha?" Erik continues. He leans forward and lowers his head, breath ghosting across the top of T'Challa's ear. T'Challa fights the urge to shiver.

"Y'all can fucking fight us. I'm a generous man. Don't care if it ain't Challenge Day. Path to the throne is still open, if any of y'all wanna fight us for it. But stop your bitching and put your money where your mouth is," Erik sneers.

The council members exchange glances with each other, but none of them seem very eager to stand up against not one, but two alphas, one of whom is stone-faced and the other of whom is clearly enraged.

"Oh, so no one wants to challenge?" Erik says sarcastically. "Then fucking _go_. Your feedback is noted. We're done here."

The council exits, muttering under their breaths.

"Fucking hypocrites," Erik sneers as the door closes behind the last person. "Bunch of coward betas. Thinking they're better than the rest of our people."

"Erik..."

To say that T'Challa is astonished is an understatement. He is flabbergasted. Of all the ways he had expected Erik to react, this had not been one of them.

T'Challa is so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he can't even bring himself to chide Erik for being rude. All he can manage to say is, "Why?"

Erik slides off the arm of the throne and turns to look at T'Challa directly, amusement plain on his face. "You should see the look on your face, cuz," he laughs.

T'Challa can't even bring himself to be indignant at being laughed at. "I don't understand," he says.

"Your plan is shitty," Erik says plainly. "Naive. But it doesn't completely suck. It can still be salvaged. By me," he adds, smirking.

"That's not what I meant," T'Challa says. "I mean, why did you even defend me at all? Why did you - " T'Challa waves vaguely in the direction of the throne, trusting Erik to catch his meaning.

"See, I'm not stupid," Erik says, becoming serious. "I already tried to rule alone once. Tried my own way of doing things, and it didn't work. My plan failed because I couldn't convince enough people - the crucial people - to do it my way. But now? Now, I don't need to convince an entire country. I just need to convince one man. My dear cousin."

Erik leans forward to look directly into T'Challa's eyes, so close that T'Challa can see the fading rings of gold around his irises. Lightly, playfully, he blows a warm breath against T'Challa's lips.

T'Challa gulps, mouth dry.

Erik's smirk returns in full force. "Somehow, I have a feeling that this is gonna be much easier." 

"You will not find me as easy to manipulate as you think," T'Challa says firmly.

"Oh, I wouldn't expect any less, alpha," Erik purrs. "Don't disappoint me now."

And with that last word, Erik saunters out of the throne room without a single backward glance, as if he hadn't just turned T'Challa's world upside down.

Again.


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

 

T'Challa had initially been concerned about Erik sneakily trying to exploit his feelings. Perhaps a small, shameful part of him had even been looking forward to Erik's attempts at seduction.

But T'Challa soon discovers that he needn't have worried.

Erik is not exactly a subtle, sneaky person. His idea of "convincing"T'Challa is to get into passionate shouting matches with him whenever Erik doesn't get his way about their plan. T'Challa gets the impression that Erik is accustomed to using his natural dominance to sway people into giving him what he wants, and is perturbed when his usual methods don't seem to be working on T'Challa.

Whenever Erik storms up to him, eyes flashing gold and voice raised, T'Challa just blinks placidly back at him. He firmly shoots down any proposals that involve violence, regardless of how vocally Erik makes them and how much Erik complains when T'Challa objects. 

Despite how aggravating Erik can be at times, T'Challa finds himself enjoying their back-and-forth arguments. Erik has a keen mind and a sharp, if vulgar sense of humour. No one else has ever been quite so willing to challenge and annoy T'Challa. It's refreshing, actually, even if Erik's position is usually more... murderous than T'Challa would prefer. 

And at least all of their arguments take place behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. Given their shaky political position, both of the them understand the necessity of presenting a united front to the country.

By mutual agreement, T'Challa usually does most of the the talking to the council while Erik does the browbeating, jumping in to hotly defend T'Challa from any disagreements or slights (real or perceived). Erik jokingly calls this the "good cop - bad cop" routine. 

The upside of playing the role of the good cop is that T'Challa gradually gets back into the council's good graces. After all, compared to Erik, T'Challa is the very model of a well-mannered, reasonable king.

Day by day, Erik and T'Challa hammer out the details of their plan. 

Day by day, T'Challa falls more deeply, more hopelessly in love with Erik. 

It hurts, the thought that Erik will never love him back. 

* * *

 

A few days after their family fight, Shuri asks T'Challa to meet him in her lab. 

T'Challa goes to the lab nervously, not daring to hope for much. He's pleasantly surprised when Shuri greets him and immediately throws her arms round him in a big hug. 

"Sorry, brother," she mutters into his shoulder, as she hugs him tightly. 

"Shuri," T'Challa says, touched. Tears gather in his eyes. He had been truly afraid of losing his sister forever. 

Shuri finally pulls away, brushing at the corners of her eyes. "I still love you. You'll always be my brother," she says firmly. "It doesn't matter to me that you're with another alpha. I don't care if you're sleeping with our horrible cousin. I won't let that come between us."

"Shuri, I'm not...I mean, I'm very glad to hear that. But I'm not actually sleeping with Erik," T'Challa denies, flushing with embarrassment. 

"Huh? But I thought - " 

"There's nothing going on between us," T'Challa explains. "We're just working together, that's all."

"I heard about what happened during the first council meeting," Shuri says sceptically. "He kissed you!" 

"That's not true! He only touched my hair," T'Challa protests. "He just wanted to make a point to the council."

"But the two of you are so close! You spend so much time alone together!"

"We're only talking," T'Challa assures Shuri. "We just talk about political matters, that's all. It's all strictly professional."

"Uh-huh," Shuri says sceptically. "You know, you don't have to lie to me. I just told you that I'll accept you no matter what."

"I'm not lying! Really! Believe me, I wish we weren't just talking," T'Challa says, before he can stop himself.

Shuri looks scandalised. "Ugh, don't tell me that! Too much info!"

T'Challa sighs and sits down on an empty chair. "I like Erik a lot," he admits, twisting his hands in his lap. "But he'll never want to be together with me. I'm his cousin and I'm an alpha. You know that he thinks it's perverse. He's only putting up with me so that he can push his plan through." T'Challa's heart aches at that thought.

"Um, are you blind? He's definitely interested in you!" Shuri says incredulously. "He's been all over you since you confessed to him. If he didn't like you back, he wouldn't be so damn protective of you. He keeps telling people off on your behalf! And he barely puts up with me and Mama after he heard that we yelled at you."

"That's all for politics," T'Challa explains. "We need to look united before the council if we want to get anything done."

"Ugh, brother, you're such a dumbass," Shuri sighs. "I can't believe a genius like me is related to an idiot like you! I'm telling you, he definitely likes you too. Just go for it."

"You're wrong. He's already made it very clear that he doesn't think of me that way. You were there too! You heard what he said," T'Challa says. "It would be dishonourable for me to try anything after he said that he hates the idea. That's just not right. And anyway, I promised him that I'd never touch him again. The only reason why we work so well together now is because of that. He has the assurance that I'm not going to sexually harass him regardless of what I feel."

"Oh Bast," Shuri groans. "You're so - you're such a - I'm fluent in fifty languages, but I can't even _begin_ to describe how blind you are. You know, you can just ask him how he feels about you."

"I will not," T'Challa says firmly. "I won't overstep his boundaries."

"..."

"Thank you for your support, though," T'Challa said gently. "It really means a lot to me."

Shuri sighs in exasperation and hugs him again. "I hope things work out for you two idiots," she murmurs.

* * *

 

After two weeks of intense quarrelling, Erik and T'Challa finally agree on a plan.

Outreach, assistance and technological exchange, beginning with African countries and Oakland first and subsequently expanding to the entire world. Safeguards and failsafes are to be built into every piece of technology that is publicly released, to ensure that they can never be turned against Wakanda. And for security's sake, the extent of Wakanda's vibranium stockpiles and military capabilities will be severely downplayed. 

T'Challa is quite proud of himself for managing to convince Erik Killmonger to accept such a nice, _peaceful_ solution. 

The next step is to announce their plan at the upcoming UN conference in Vienna.

T'Challa is looking forward to his first diplomatic trip together with Erik. However, things do not start off well. 

T'Challa, the heir apparent to the Wakanda throne, has been trained since young in politics and diplomacy. A lot of alphas naturally gravitate towards politics, and as a consequence, T'Challa is quite accustomed to dealing with other alpha men and women. Erik, however, is not. The sight of so many other alphas gathered in the UN conference room immediately puts Erik on edge.

When the alpha prime minister from Malaysia approaches Erik and T'Challa with a friendly smile, Erik immediately draws himself upright to his full height, bristling with tense fury. He bares his teeth and not-so-subtly sidles in front of T'Challa, placing himself between T'Challa and the confused prime minister.

"Erik, we are on a diplomatic mission," T'Challa reminds Erik calmly and quietly in Xhosa as he tugs Erik aside, shooting an apologetic smile towards the minister. "Control your instincts. We are here to build ties. Be nice to others, even if they're alphas." 

"Hmph," Erik says, scowling. He gives the departing back of the prime minister a golden-eyed glare.

"Erik, that man is _ninety-two!_ He's not even remotely your competition. And please let go of my arm."

"You never know," Erik says darkly. He doesn't release his possessive hold on T'Challa.

T'Challa sighs, "You really haven't had much interaction with other alphas before, have you?"

"There aren't many of us around," Erik says, shrugging. "I mean, I kind of knew a few alphas back when I was in the army, but Command always separated us into different units. They didn't want us to fight."

"Maybe you should step outside for a moment and cool down," T'Challa suggests. "I don't want you to offend any of the alphas here."

"No!" Erik snaps angrily, running his hand up T'Challa's arm. He steps even closer to T'Challa until he's practically pressed against T'Challa's side.

T'Challa blinks. Erik isn't usually this touchy with him, unless he wants to make a point to the council.

"He's jealous. He's mate guarding," Okoye says to T'Challa. "You won't be able to talk sense into him when he's like this, especially when there are so many alpha rivals here."

Erik immediately lets go of T'Challa's arm and backs off, looking outraged. "I am not!"

Okoye snorts.

Erik grits his teeth. "Y'know what? I'll show you. I'm going back to wait in the hotel," he mutters.

"No, Erik, wait -" T'Challa begins, but Erik has already stormed off.

T'Challa bites his lip anxiously, hoping that Erik isn't too angry.

"Erik really doesn't think of me that way," T'Challa says to Okoye, resigned. "We're not mated." 

"Right," Okoye says sceptically. "You know, you don't have to hide it from me. I know that most people are prejudiced against alpha/alpha couples, but it doesn't bother me. Two of my own ancestors were omegas, actually. I'm glad that you and Erik have worked things out. It makes my job much easier if he's protecting you instead of trying to murder you all the time."

This entire conversation is starting to sound _very_ familiar. 

"Thank you for being supportive, but really, we aren't together," T'Challa says regretfully. 

Okoye looks puzzled.

"Oh, look - I think it's time for me to give my speech soon," T'Challa says, grasping for an excuse to leave the conversation. Thinking about why Erik will never want to be with him makes his heart hurt. 

He walks away quickly towards the podium, with a sinking feeling that he's running away from the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

The speech itself goes quite well. T'Challa's only regret is that Erik is not there to witness it in person.

When he finally gets back to the hotel, he opens the door to his suite to find Erik waiting for him on the sofa, arms crossed.

"Nice speech," Erik says casually as he stands up off the sofa in one fluid motion, stalking close to T'Challa. "Just watched it on TV."

"Um, thank you. Erik - " T'Challa begins.

"Shut up," Erik growls. He leans close towards T'Challa, eyes golden and dangerous. 

T'Challa finds himself automatically backing up against the door, heart pounding faster at Erik's proximity. 

"Why are you angry with me now?" T'Challa asks indignantly. "What did I do? I told you not to leave! I wanted you to stay for the speech!" 

"No, you wanted me to _go!_ To leave you alone in a room full of alphas!" Erik shouts in T'Challa's face. 

"Because you were losing your temper for no good reason! I just wanted you to cool down for a bit," T'Challa says defensively. "I didn't mean that you should just leave!"

"No good reason, huh?" Erik says silkily. "So all those alphas around meant nothing?"

"Of course not!"

Erik leans in close to sniff at the base of T'Challa's neck.

"I hate the way you smell now," Erik hisses. "You stink of other alphas. Ain't right."

T'Challa shoves Erik away lightly from himself with one hand pressed against Erik's chest. "Erik, you are being ridiculous right now..."

A sudden realisation strikes T'Challa.

No.

It can't be.

But... 

Erik's hostility towards the other alphas they've met today can be explained away as simple sexual competitiveness. But there is absolutely no reason for him to be mad about how _T'Challa_ smells, unless... 

"You really are jealous," T'Challa says wonderingly. "Okoye was right."

Erik yanks T'Challa back towards himself with one hand fisted in the front of T'Challa's ceremonial robes.

"Don't ever push me away again," Erik says as he kisses T'Challa hard. 

T'Challa gasps, arms automatically coming up to wrap around Erik's waist as Erik pushes him back against the wall. Erik's grip on him is possessive, almost painfully tight. He bites and sucks none too gently on T'Challa's bottom lip. T'Challa feels his knees weaken under the intensity of Erik's passion. 

Erik tries to tear at the front of T'Challa's robe, but T'Challa catches both of Erik's wrists in his hands, encircling them tight. 

"Erik, wait," T'Challa says worriedly. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not just hormones?"

"You idiot, why the fuck would my hormones make me fuck another alpha? I just met a room full of alphas and I hated them all!" 

T'Challa has to admit that there is some truth in that. 

"It's you," Erik says, his voice low and intense. "Only you, T'Challa. I just want you."

A shiver runs up T'Challa's spine at Erik's heated words. 

"You really don't have to do this," T'Challa says quietly. He has to be sure. 

"I know that," Erik says, his voice hard. "If I thought I had to, I wouldn't do it at all. And don't give me that look. You know what I mean."

Upon hearing that, hope flutters in T'Challa's heart for the first time. Could Erik truly...?

"I must say, this is really a surprise," T'Challa says cautiously. "You told me that it was perverse. I thought the very idea disgusted you."

"Nah. I mean, it was a shock when you told me at first. At that time, I was still angry at you and I wanted to make you feel bad. But I wasn't really disgusted. Just surprised. It's kinda flattering, after I thought about it. Very kinky. And...you're not so bad," Erik admits reluctantly. "I know that this - all of this - has been hard for you. I don't give a shit about what anyone thinks, but you?" Erik smirks at him. "I can tell that it eats you up. You must really want me bad, to go through all this."

It's all true. All of it. 

As T'Challa is still marvelling at this unexpected turn of events, Erik gently breaks free of T'Challa's grip on his wrists. He cups T'Challa's face between his hands and kisses T'Challa again. This time, the kiss is slow and sweet, Erik taking his time to savour the taste of T'Challa's lips against his own. 

"Stop worrying so much, cuz," Erik says quietly, when he finally pulls away. "Let's just try it once. If we both hate it, I'll never bring this up again."

"Alright," T'Challa breathes.

He steers Erik back towards the bed, stripping out of his robe at the same time. 

By unspoken agreement, T'Challa lets Erik take the lead. Erik pushes T'Challa back down against the mattress, grinding down against him. T'Challa fights down his instinctive urge to flip Erik over and climb on top of him. 

"Go gold for me," Erik demands, smirking. "Show me what you got, alpha."

Hesitantly, T'Challa lets go of part of his control. A familiar bright haze temporarily clouds over his vision as his eyes turn gold and his canines sharpen slightly. 

T'Challa arches up against Erik, thrusting his hips up and wrapping his arms around Erik tightly. He feels Erik's cock jerk against his thigh, hardening with interest. 

"Now that's more like it. I fucking love this look on you _,"_ Erik says appreciatively as he tilts T'Challa's head up, stroking his thumb along T'Challa's jaw. "What's the point of fucking another alpha if you're just gonna hold it in the entire time? You gotta let go more often, T. I dunno why you're always holding yourself back."

"The last time I lost control, I killed you," T'Challa growls. 

Erik grins down at him. "That was hot." 

"You're crazy," T'Challa says, but he can't help but smile back, lips drawing back to bare his sharpened teeth.

Erik turns T'Challa over onto his front and  kisses along his neck, up to his ear. His capped teeth scrape against T'Challa's soft, vulnerable skin. T'Challa tightens his grip on the sheets so hard that he can feel the fabric starting to rip under his enhanced strength. 

It's hot, T'Challa has to agree. The knowledge that if Erik wants to, he can tear T'Challa's throat out. Kill him before his guards even have a chance to react. 

He must be crazy, too, to let Erik do this to him. To put himself completely at the mercy of his not-quite-reformed cousin. 

But nothing else feels so right as _this._  Erik on top of him, heated skin against skin, cock grinding against T'Challa's ass. Erik's precome smears against T'Challa's cheeks, dripping down into his crack.

"This is gonna hurt," Erik warns T'Challa as he grips T'Challa's cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart. T'Challa moans at the feeling of Erik's warm hands on his ass. "You know we ain't made for this. Not like betas or omegas."

"Don't care," T'Challa pants. He's already painfully hard. "You can hurt me." 

Erik shudders above him. "Don't say shit like that, man," he mutters. 

One finger breaches T'Challa, pushing past his tight ring of muscle, aided by the copious amounts of slick alpha precome. T'Challa grits his teeth at the burn of the penetration. He has never really liked doing this with any of his previous partners - it just doesn't feel right. But T'Challa fights down his instincts and tries to relax enough to accept the intrusion, letting Erik open him up with his fingers. All the while, Erik caresses him and whispers surprisingly sweet nothings into T'Challa's ear. _Relax, baby. You're doing great. So good for me._

Who knew that Erik would be such a gentle lover? 

But the alpha in T'Challa grates at being treated so softly. It's somehow worse, having to submit like this. Having Erik treat him as if he were something soft and fragile. 

"Not like that," T'Challa finds himself saying, harshly, as he turns his head back to nip at Erik's lips. "Give it to me hard."

"You sure?" 

_"Yes_ \- come _on_ -" 

T'Challa spreads his legs wide, wanton and needy, and Erik groans at the sight. 

Erik grips his hips tight, and then there's the feeling of something thick and blunt nudging at the rim of his hole.

T'Challa fights down the urge to squirm away and makes himself relax and accept the entry. The feeling of Erik's hard cock forcing itself into him, hot and thick, burns worse than Erik's fingers. He can't help but moan at the pain and the stretch. T'Challa's fingers dig and twist tightly into the sheets, and the fabric finally tears. Jagged little puncture holes appear under his fingernails. 

T'Challa winces and makes a mental note to offer to pay the hotel tomorrow. 

Erik doesn't give T'Challa much time to get adjusted. He starts pounding into T'Challa hard and fast, drawing a short moan out of T'Challa with each thrust. Each thrust splits him even wider open, causing a stabbing, intimate jolt of pain to shoot through T'Challa. But it gradually becomes more pleasant as T'Challa begins to get used to the feeling. And then Erik reaches around to grab T'Challa's cock in his fist, jerking him roughly in rhythm with his thrusts, hard and unforgiving.

T'Challa can hear his own moans becoming more high-pitched and desperate at the incredible feeling of Erik's hand around his cock, Erik's cock in his ass. The pleasure sharpens to an almost unbearable edge, mingling with shame at being reduced to this - being fucked by his own cousin, begging to be bred by another alpha. 

For some inexplicable reason, the shame only intensifies his pleasure. 

Erik's thrusts are becoming harsher now, his rhythm more erratic, and T'Challa can feel the telltale swelling at the base of Erik's cock. Erik moves to pull out, but T'Challa shoves back against Erik as hard as he can manage. 

"No," T'Challa pants, hardly believing that he's asking for this. "Knot me."

_"Fuck,_ T'Challa," Erik breathes, accompanied by a semi-incredulous laugh. And then there's the sudden feeling of Erik's knot expanding sharply within him, splitting him wide apart. Warmth spreads through T'Challa's insides as Erik fills him up with cum.

"Oh - _ohhh..."_  

It hurts. It _fucking_ hurts, even more than T'Challa had expected - an uncomfortable, sharp stabbing pain that makes his body stiffen and his toes curl. T'Challa bites through his bottom lip at the burning intensity of the stretch. He briefly wonders if anything has torn inside him, then decides that he doesn't want to know. It's probably nothing that the heart-shaped herb won't be able to fix in a couple of minutes, anyway. 

"C'mon, come for me too," Erik rasps in his ear. His hand on T'Challa's cock speeds up, stroking and pulling T'Challa through the pain.

T'Challa closes his eyes and yields to Erik again, letting the mingled waves of pain and pleasure wash over him, taking him deeper into the dark. 

* * *

 

When T'Challa wakes up the next morning, Erik isn't in bed next to him. 

Dismay fills T'Challa for a moment, before he tells himself that he really shouldn't have expected Erik to be one for morning cuddles. Most likely, Erik had already returned to his own room in the middle of the night. 

T'Challa swallows down his disappointment as he swings his legs off the bed - and spots Erik standing on the hotel balcony, leaning against the railing.

Erik turns towards T'Challa at the sound of him getting out of bed, and T'Challa's heart leaps. 

He winces a little as he stands, each step towards the balcony causing a small, shooting stab of pain. Erik watches as T'Challa walks towards him with a slight hitch in his step. Erik's face is perfectly still and expressionless. 

T'Challa joins Erik on the balcony, gazing out at the city below. The first rays of sunlight are just starting to break through the clouds. 

Erik is gripping the railing lightly as he looks into the distance. Daringly, T'Challa inches closer towards him and places his hand over Erik's.

Erik doesn't shake him off. 

"Sorry," Erik mutters, almost too quietly for T'Challa to hear. "Though it's your own damn fault, you know. But I'll be more gentle next time."

So there is to be a _next time,_ then. 

"Erik," T'Challa breathes out, half-laughing. He can't stop a big, goofy smile from spreading across his face. 

"Man, don't say my name like that," Erik says quickly. "You're such a fucking sap, you know that?" 

Erik's words are harsh, but his tone is not. It's almost fond. He even intertwines his fingers with T'Challa's, if only for a brief second, before trying to pull away, as if embarrassed. T'Challa doesn't let him. He traps Erik's hand under his own, threading their fingers together.

"Yes, I am," T'Challa says, unashamed. In this moment, he swears to himself - he'll never be ashamed for this again. For wanting to be with Erik.

They still have a tough road ahead. But it'll be worth it.

 

THE END

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not intended to be a metaphor for homophobia, but you're free to interpret it that way if you like. I basically just wanted to write a "forbidden love" story that doesn't involve real-world oppression. 
> 
> \+ I couldn't squeeze it into the fic, but I imagine that in this universe, Zuri is an omega. It's how he gained N'Jobu's trust so easily, and why T'Chaka killed his own brother for Zuri - he instinctively reacted to protect an omega in danger. Other than Erik (alpha), T'Challa (alpha) and Zuri (omega), for simplicity's sake, all the other BP characters are betas.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated.


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